


Holiday Adventures in Canada

by MsCaptainWinchester (rons_pigwidgeon)



Series: 25 Days til Spideypool Christmas 2019 [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Peter Parker, Cabin Fic, Canada, Christmas Smut, Christmas Vacation, Cock Slut Peter Parker, Cock Warming, Come Eating, Couch Cuddles, Couch Sex, Dirty Talk, Forest Sex, Hot Chocolate, Human Sacrifice (jokes about), M/M, Maple Syrup Taffy, Outdoor Sex, Public Hand Jobs, Reindeer, Sex Magic, Snow, Top Wade Wilson, Wild Animal Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21633349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rons_pigwidgeon/pseuds/MsCaptainWinchester
Summary: Peter and Wade go to Logan's cabin the middle of nowhere, Canada for an extended Christmas holiday with the intention of spending the majority of their stay fucking in every way they can think of. Their holiday goes on some unexpected journeys, but in the end, they get their wish.Chapters can be read independently. See Notes for more info.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Series: 25 Days til Spideypool Christmas 2019 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559260
Comments: 45
Kudos: 300





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of my 25 Days til Spideypool Christmas series. Expect updates sporadically from now until December 25. Each chapter here will act as an independent stand-alone fic following the same characters on the same holiday, so if something isn't your jam, you can easily skip it without missing any plot (Plot? I don't know her) substance. Porn will range from fluffy and sweet to hella kinky. I will be updating the tags as needed, and will include any relevant tags in the notes before a chapter to give you all fair warning. 
> 
> As this series is still being written, if there is something you would like to see happen, feel free to let me know in the comments. I can't guarantee that I'll get to every request, but I'd love suggestions. And who knows, maybe I'll decide to add to this series even after Christmas is over.
> 
> * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for Part 1: Cock Warming, joking non-serious discussion of scat play, anal sex, dirty talk  
> Part 1 was written based on an anonymous prompt on my [tumblr ](https://mscaptainwinchester.tumblr.com/post/189413641256/spideypool-cockwarming-temperature-play-cuddly). _Spideypool. Cockwarming, temperature play, cuddly sex, top!Wade, subby and squirmy Peter. Wade comes in from the cold, and Peter welcomes him home._

The cabin was exactly what Peter had expected, given the description Wade had given him and the many adventure novels he read with his dad as a kid. A genuine log cabin that looked like the real-life version of a Lincoln logs built, hand-hewn and constructed by Logan sometime in the last century. Peter had had to stop in the middle of pulling suitcases from the car just to boggle at it until snow started gathering on his coat, and Wade had started waving a hand in front of his face. It was like walking onto the set of a Laura Ingalls Wilder book or something. Only they had much less wholesome plans for their holiday. Peter sent a side glance at Wade’s ass, wiggling along to the song he was humming as he hauled boxes out of the backseat. _Much_ less wholesome plans.

The inside of the cabin was as rustic and woodsy as the outside as he would have expected from a literal log cabin. The kitchen and living room shared a space, a small breakfast bar island acting as divider. The kitchen had a wood stove. Peter could only hope that Wade knew how to use it, because he had only basic theories. There was a gigantic leather couch covered in plaid blankets and throw pillows that looked like they belonged to someone’s grandma in the living room and an old, faded, green recliner that Peter’s aunt would have insisted on throwing away a decade before it got to the state it was in then. The fireplace was massive, stone, and clearly built by hand. The entire place smelled of cedar and pine, and a little of dust.

Wade was chattering on about hoping the lake was frozen enough already to go ice skating as they carried in the bags. Peter only had the one small rolling suitcase, but Wade had brought whole crates of supplies, decorations, what looked like wrapped presents from the small peeks Peter had managed before Wade slapped him away like an unruly puppy. Having seen the haul, Peter had been surprised that Wade hadn’t dragged a tree with them. But then, they were surrounded by dense forest. Maybe Wade was planning to cut one down together. That wasn’t something Peter had ever done before, born and bred New Yorker that he was.

“Are you expecting the zombie apocalypse over the holidays? You brought a whole grocery store with us. How long are you planning for us to stay here? Until the next ice age?”

“Might be sooner than you think, baby boy. Always good to be prepared.”

“You sound like a boy scout,” Peter said, dropping the heavy box of food stuffs on the kitchen counter and taking a look around.

“Only in your wet dreams. Didn’t bring the uniform, though, so that’ll have to be a roleplay for another day. Bring the suitcases into the bedroom, will you? It’s over there.” Wade pointed to a door off what served as a living room. Peter spied a massive bed through the open doorway, covered in blankets and what looked like real animal skins. Peter blinked at it for a long moment before doing as Wade asked.

“Please tell me you brought normal blankets. I think Logan has a bear skin on the bed. What the fuck?” he called behind him as he hefted Wade’s duffel bag onto his shoulder and wheeled his suitcase through the bedroom door. It was definitely some kind of animal skin, big enough to be a bear, but the head was missing, so there was no way to tell. Peter gave the bed a wide berth as he circumnavigated it to deposit their things next to the giant cedar dresser shoved against the wall. The bed was bigger than any bed Peter had ever seen in his life. It looked hand-carved, as did all the furniture in the room. He stroked a hand over the inlaid flowers carved into the front of the dresser, the smooth wood cool under his fingers.

“The only bear around here should be me,” Wade called through the open door.

Peter snorted under his breath. “You’re not hairy enough to be a bear,” he called back.

“You wound me, my love! If only this shriveled carcass could grow hair, I would be the bearest of bears for you! King of the bears! The Alpha Bear!”

“I thought you were more of a leather daddy type?” he replied as his eyes fell on a piece of paper, folded in half and propped up between two framed photographs of Logan with a beautiful Japanese woman Peter didn’t recognize. The paper was addressed to ‘Wilson & Parker’ in Logan’s hurried cursive. Peter picked it up and laughed when he saw what was inside.

  


“Pretty sure Logan thinks we’re only up here to fuck all over the place,” he called back to Wade, propping the note back up on the dresser.

Wade was hauling in an Ikea bag filled to the brim with food and a box tall enough to obstruct his view when he walked back into the living room. “Isn’t that the plan?” he asked, peering over the box.

Peter hurried to help him with the box before he tripped and broke the pickle jars. “Yeah, but he doesn’t need to know that.” He felt his cheeks warm at the idea of Logan knowing how much he and Wade fucked. Logan had been his boss on more than one occasion.

Wade saw his blush and grinned something wicked, bussing his cheek. “You’re the cutest little bashful boy for such a shameless cockslut. I didn’t think it was possible to still be so innocent after the shit you’ve let me do to you.”

Peter rolled his eyes, but pressed a kiss to Wade’s mouth anyway. “That’s different than Logan knowing about it. We work together.”

Wade made a pained face. “Get away from me before I forget to put the groceries away and fuck you on the counter instead. I don’t remember what boxed I packed the lube in.”

“I have some in the front pocket of my suitcase. But yeah, let’s get the groceries put away first. I want hot chocolate.” He set the box on the counter and helped Wade with the bag of groceries.

“I want your hot chocolate,” Wade said, leaning into his shoulder to kiss his neck over the door of the fridge.

Peter scrunched his face up at him. “Excuse me? Try again, perv. This isn’t one of your weird porns.”

Wade’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, and he was pressing Peter against the counter and goosing his neck before Peter’s Spidey Sense could even warn him. “You sure, baby? We could do a two supers, one cup thing.” Wade squeezed his waist teasingly, nipping at his earlobe while he pressed his body flush against Peter’s.

“Do you never want to get laid again? Because this is how you never get laid again.”

Wade nipped him again, just hard enough to send a shiver down his spine. “Killjoy. We could make millions.”

“That’s the worst reason to do a thing. Finish putting the groceries away and make me some hot chocolate, and maybe I’ll let you fuck me on the couch while I drink it.” He lifted Wade’s face up by his chin and pressed a hard kiss to his mouth before pulling away. “Maybe,” he said as he walked away to go outside and get some of the firewood Logan promised them. He had no idea how to make a fire, but damnit, he was going to try.

-

The leather couch was more comfortable than Peter wanted to admit, especially with the fire going and a thick wool blanket on his lap. All he needed was Wade to cuddle up to and his Canadian holiday dreams would be complete. Just on time, a steaming mug of chocolatey goodness topped with marshmallows and a candy cane was dropped in front of his face, followed by his boyfriend cuddling up under the blankets with him.

“This smells amazing,” he praised, sniffing at the rim before taking a sip. The thick sweetness of dark chocolate curled over his tongue and made him want to melt. “Oh shit, that’s too good. There should be laws against how good that is. It’s too powerful. People will riot.”

Wade draped an arm around the back of the couch and turned his whole body towards Peter, kissing his cheek. “That’s convenient, since there’s already a riot in my pants.”

Peter gave him a hard side-eye. “That was beneath you.”

“Wanna be beneath _you_ ,” Wade teased, leaning further into Peter's space to suck his earlobe into his mouth, his free hand slipping under the blanket to stroke over Peter’s thigh.

“I’m only allowing this level of terrible banter because this hot chocolate is so good. Also, I found the lube.” He produced the bottle from the blanket fold he’d tucked it into and held it up to Wade.

“You’re so good to me.” Wade snatched the lube from him with a biting kiss to his lips. Peter grinned, taking a big gulp of his drink before setting it down on the table in front of them and climbing into Wade’s lap. Wade already had his sweatpants down and two handfuls of his ass before he’d settled. “I thought you wanted to drink your hot chocolate.”

“I’ll get to it.” Peter draped his arms around Wade’s neck and kissed him, licking into his mouth and making himself at home. Wade groaned under him, dragging dry fingers up Peter’s crack and over his hole in a tease before coming back with lube.

“Wasn’t sure you were gonna be into it with all that protesting earlier.”

“Do you not want to get laid? Because I can go find something else to do. I brought books.”

Wade squeezed his cheek, digging his fingers deeper into his hole to find his prostate, grinning when Peter moaned into his shoulder. “I have a feeling books aren’t going to do it the way I can, baby.”

Peter kissed him again instead of arguing, beginning to rock his hips just a little with Wade’s movements. When he felt open and ready enough, he pushed off of Wade’s lap and turned around, reaching back for Wade’s cock and sliding down onto him with a satisfied little gasp. Wade took hold of his hips, pulling him back into his lap and thrusting up just enough to get that little bit deeper. Peter dropped his head back on Wade’s shoulder with his mouth open in a little oh, eyes shut tight.

“Fill you up just like you like it, baby?” Wade rasped right into his ear.

“Always, fuck, I could live on your cock.” Peter rocked his hips in a slow circle, bracing his hands over Wade’s on his hips for balance.

“If we made that video, we could probably make that dream a reality. Hire a maid, order take-out every day. You’d never have to move if you didn’t want to.”

“Stop suggesting we make a shit-eating video when you have your dick in me. You’re ruining the mood.” Despite his words, he circled his hips again, lifting up just enough to make the sink-down toe-curling good.

“Such a fragile constitution. I’m just saying we give the people what they want.” He put his mouth to Peter’s throat again, sucking kisses into the sensitive skin behind his ear as they moved slowly together.

“No one wants that. If people found out something like that existed, they’d probably pay us _not_ to release it.” He shifted up again, sliding back down with a soft groan and doing it again, getting a lazy rhythm going. With the fire crackling in front of them and the rich smell of the soup Wade had simmering on the stove and the warmth of their bodies pressed so close together, it was like all his cozy Christmas dreams were coming true. Peter really could have stayed there forever.

He leaned over the edge of the couch without jostling Wade and picked up his hot chocolate and took a drink, settling back against Wade’s chest with more slow circles of his hips as he hummed happily around the lip of the mug.

“Happy, baby?” Wade murmured into his ear, his hot breath against Peter’s skin as comforting as Wade’s arms around him.

“Let’s just spend the rest of our vacation like this,” he replied, twisting enough to hold the mug up for Wade to drink from. Wade plucked the candy cane of the rim and crunched on the melted remains of the post.

“Not gonna find me complaining.” He pressed sticky peppermint kisses to Peter’s mouth and squeezed him close.

Peter nuzzled his nose into Wade’s temple, pausing the rolling of his hips so he could set the mug on his hip. “Would you, uh… really not mind if we just stayed like this for awhile?” he asked.

Wade’s thumb stopped mindless stroking it had been doing against his pelvis. “Not sure what you’re asking, baby boy. If you want to have sex for the entire week, I’m down with the plan.”

“No, just, uh… staying like this? It’s kind of cozy sitting here with you with the fire and the cocoa and the blankets and everything. I was thinking it might be nice to just kind of… snuggle? But with you… inside me, like we are now?”

Wade’s mouth crept up in a predatory smile. “Wanna do a bit of cockwarming, huh? I could get into that. Like the way I fill you up? My thick cock keeping you wide and spread open for me so I can fuck up into you whenever I feel like it?”

Peter made an involuntary noise at the thought, a dirty little sliver of pleasure slithering up his neck. He did like the idea, very much so. He also just liked the idea of being cozy and warm in his boyfriend’s arms while they shared a nice evening together. Part of the reason he agreed to travel up to a cabin in the middle of nowhere, Canada was so that he could spend time with Wade without any outside distractions interrupting them. “Yeah, that sounds… yeah.”

“If that’s what you want, we can do that every day, all day.” Wade cupped his chin and turned his face for a kiss, soft and achingly slow, and Peter felt himself melting into his warmth with a happy sigh. They rubbed their nose together like two cats saying hello, and Peter settled his head back on Wade’s shoulder, content. Wade held him close and kissed his temple.

They were quiet for a long moment that stretched into two, then three. Peter took another drink of his hot cocoa, nearly drained by then despite the giant mug Wade had given him.

“Hold on,” Wade said a bit later, pulling a phone out from under the blankets and thumbing open the camera app. Peter watched with detached interest. He might have protested taking a picture while they were having sex, but there were no signs of it in the camera lens, and he was so warm and content he could barely find the energy to care. Wade’s sticky lips on his cheek made him smile so wide he thought his jaw might start aching. He watched Wade post the selfie to his Instagram with three santa emojis and #happyholidays and snuggled up closer to Wade. The thought of their friends and family seeing what looked like an innocent couple’s selfie and having no idea what was really going on wasn’t as abhorrent as he might have thought. Wade set the phone down, and they spent the rest of the afternoon sipping hot chocolate and enjoying the fire.

If they stayed that way until the soup was ready and they’d both come twice, no one was around to comment. Just the way Peter wanted it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Letter Text: 
> 
> Wilson,  
> If you get spunk all over my cabin, I’m going to slice all your skin off and leave it out for the deer to eat.
> 
> Parker,  
> There should be extra firewood in the back. You’ll probably have to sharpen the axe if you need more. There’s a puck sharpener in the tool box.  
> Air the place out before you leave. I don’t want to come up there and smell Wilson’s spunk all over everything for the next five years.
> 
> Merry Christmas,
> 
> Logan
> 
> * * *


	2. Maple Syrup Taffy in the Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wade teaches Peter how to make maple syrup candy in the snow the horny way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 of my 25 Days til Spideypool Christmas series! The prompt for this one was once again my own.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Tags for this chapter: cum eating, outdoor hand jobs, dirty talk, Wade calling Peter a slut as a turn-on

“What are we doing in the snow again, if we’re not building a snowman?” Peter asked, curling in on himself to keep his body heat as close as possible. It was too cold for spiders to be outside, whatever negative nonsense temperature it was. But Wade had insisted on the two of them bundling up and trudging out into the freshly fallen snow with an empty plate and a steaming pan of… something. Peter had been reading while Wade fussed around in the kitchen, so all he knew about what was in the pan was that it smelled like rich burnt sugar. Wade hadn’t answered when he asked what they were doing while he pulled on the several layers of sweater and parka so thick he felt a bit like the little brother from A Christmas Story. And now he was standing in snow taller than his snow boots, watching his boyfriend for signs of insanity. More insanity than usual, that was.

“I’m going to introduce you to the time-old tradition of maple syrup candy,” Wade explained, sweeping a hand across the wide, white expanse in front of them as if that was explanation enough. Peter had no idea what he was talking about.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Why couldn’t they be back inside 69-ing in their giant bed the way Peter had suggested they spend their afternoon?

“Candy. Made from maple syrup. I boiled a whole bottle of maple syrup in a pan,” He held up the pan in demonstration, “and now we’re going to put it in the fresh snow, let it solidify, and then we’re going to wrap it up and eat it like taffy. It’s an ancient Canadian tradition. You can’t come to Canada without trying it at least once.”

Peter frowned, unsure what this had to do with sex. He had been promised an afternoon of orgasms. In fact, part of their agreement in coming up to the cabin was that they spent every afternoon having sex in as many ways as they could think of. This was… decidedly unsexy. Delicious-sounding, but still. “Where’s the orgasms? I was promised orgasms.”

“Oh you’re gonna get ‘em, baby, don’t worry.” Wade winked at him and licked his lips, giving him a once-over that made Peter roll his eyes and wrap his arms around his middle tighter. He watched Wade crouch down and pour a thick stream of maple syrup into the snow, making a wabbly band the width of two fingers before moving on to a fresh square of snow and doing it again. It looked to Peter like he was wasting perfectly good—and expensive—maple syrup. But by the third swirl of it, he started to understand the concept.

“So, it solidifies in the snow and then you can eat it like taffy?” he asked, crouching down to examine the first strip Wade had poured and seeing the way the syrup crystalized as it grew cold.

“Exactly like taffy. Except, we’re going to mix things up by adding our own little… special ingredients.” He winked at Peter like Peter was supposed to catch his meaning. Peter’s brain must have been starting to crystalize, too, because he did not.

“Okay… what ingredient would that be?”

Wade finished a final strip with a dramatic swirl of the pan and set it aside to promptly sink into a circle of melting snow. “Let me show you,” he said, knee-walking over through the snow until he was plastered to Peter’s back, his arms going around Peter’s waist. Peter thought it was a weird time to be hugging, but didn’t protest the closeness. That is, until Wade’s hands went to his waist and began digging up under his parka to get to his jeans and unbutton them. Peter squeaked, the prospect of his most sensitive skin being exposed to the kind of temperatures they were currently standing in a little more than he could handle. But Wade was patient, murmuring praise in his ear. “I’ll keep you warm, baby, don’t worry you’re pretty little head about anything. I’d never let my favorite dick freeze off. You’ll like this, I know you will. Just trust me. Can you do that, Petey-pie?”

Peter couldn’t resist the purring praise and settled a little against Wade’s chest. “I trust you, but it’s fucking cold, Wade. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can’t keep anything resembling body fat on me. I have no natural insulation. What if I get frost bite? And what does this have to do with making candy?”

“You said you wanted an orgasm,” he said, breath damp and warm against Peter’s cheek. He reached inside the jeans and pulled out Peter’s flaccid cock, circling it with his big hand and beginning to stroke it slowly. Peter wanted to continue protesting, but Wade knew just how to touch him, just how to twist his grip to drive Peter crazy, and the surprise lube on his hand didn’t make things easier to object to. He was hard faster than his pride would admit, and close to coming before his brain was fully on board with what was happening.

“Fuck,” he groaned, leaning back into Wade and gripping his wrist too hard to stop the vigorous pace before he came. “I’m gonna… fuck,” he managed through strained teeth.

Wade bit his jaw, teeth gently gripping bone through tender skin. Peter could feel his grin against his cheek. “That’s the point, sugar plum. Want to get your cum all over these candies, and then I want to feed it to you and watch you lick the cum off your fingers like the good little slut you are.”

Peter moaned, high-pitched and needy, letting go of Wade’s wrist to grip onto his thighs for balance. Something about Wade calling him a good little slut drove him crazy in ways he had no interest in examining. Any restraint he’d managed to pull together in stopping Wade was gone in an instant. Wade twisted his fist again, stroking up just right to get Peter seeing stars, and suddenly he was coming, _hard_. It was embarrassing how quick the entire thing was over, Peter trembling and spilling spunk everywhere. It was good that they were so far aware from civilization, because his shout of Wade’s name likely would have reached neighbors even a mile away.

When he was able to think straight again, he blinked down at the snow to find that there were strings of thick, gloopy cum striped across the maple syrup. Wade had directed the stream of his cum, making sure that it hit as much of the hardened candy as possible.

“Good boy. You did such a good job for me. Such a good little whore, ready to cum on command for me. I could watch you like this all day every day and never get bored. You’re so fucking hot. Fuck, I wanna fuck you again so bad,” Wade was murmuring to him, nuzzling under his ear and kissing him desperately on whatever bare patches of skin he could reach.

Peter twisted in his arms to kiss him properly, his heart beating so fast he could barely think. All he wanted to do was get his hands on Wade and get him off the same way. He pulled a glove off and fumbled for Wade’s pants, pulling his dick out before he’d pushed them all the way down and beginning to jack him off hard and fast with a little spit to guide the way. Wade gasped and clamped a hand on the back of Peter’s neck, pulling him in for another hard kiss. “Fuck yeah, baby, just like that. Oh fuck, you wanna make me cum, too? Fuck, you’re so good at that,” Wade praised, leaning his forehead against Peter’s and squeezing his eyes shut as Peter stripped his cock. At the first twitch of orgasm, Peter moved out of the way to direct Wade’s cum where he wanted it, splashing it all over the maple syrup to mix with his own. It looked like rich caramel drizzled with icing. 

When Wade had come back to himself, he pushed Peter backwards into the snow and kissed him until they were both breathless and soaked through, the two of the nipping and fighting for control of the other’s mouth. “Fuck, you’re hot,” Wade said when he finally pulled away several minutes later. Peter pecked his mouth with a grin, loving the praise. It was almost enough to let him forget just how close to becoming a living icicle he was. He didn’t think if he froze, that they’d be able to thaw him like Steve, but it was worth a try if he got to fuck around with Wade to get there. “And such a sneaky little cum slut. Didn’t want just your own, did you? Had to get some of mine in there, too.”

Peter neither confirmed nor denied the claim. Wade got back up on his knees and pulled a stirring rod from a pocket of his coat. Peter sat up to watch, curious, as Wade stuck the edge of one of the strips onto the stirrer and twirled it around until all of the maple syrup was wrapped around the post like a miniature cotton candy cone. He deposited the swirl onto the plate and repeated the process with the next strip.

By the third, Peter was impatient to try his hand at it. He climbed up onto Wade’s thighs for leverage, took the stick out of his hand, and twisted the next strip of syrup onto the stick himself. It was a little clunky to get used to, but the candy quickly stuck together and came up from the snow in a tacky, sticky mess. It smelled like brown sugar and maple and cum.

He lifted the stirring stick to his mouth and took a tentative bite, eyes going wide as the flavor hit his tongue. Smokey maple and a little bitter from the cum. He delicately bit the tip off the swirl, aware of Wade’s heated gaze on him and Wade’s warm thighs under his. “It’s really good,” he murmured around his mouthful, kissing Wade to share the taste. Wade’s hands shifted over his hips, hiking him closer as their kiss became more heated.

“Fuck, baby boy, watching you eat your cum like a good little slut is so hot. Wanna take you inside and pound you into the mattress,” Wade told him, sucking kisses down his throat again.

“Let’s get the rest of this wrapped up, and we can do just that. Want you to feed it to me while you spread me out on that big bed and fuck me until I can’t move anymore.”

Wade groaned into his shoulder and lifted his head once more for another heated kiss before pulling away to curl up the final strips in quick, practiced movements. Then, he shoved the plate and stirring stick into Peter’s hands, picked him up in an iron grip, and dragged him inside to do just as promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you, too, would like to make this taffy, here's a great (and science-filled) tutorial on how to do so: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tgdhwDqqdYc&t=229s


	3. Reindeer Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Wade are almost Rosemary's Baby'd in the middle of the woods by a caribou with a staring problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by Me: Somehow in Canada, stumble onto a reindeer that really wants them to follow it 
> 
> Thank you to smartini03 and [Jukoist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jukoist/profile) for being amazing betas! Y'all helped make this so much better!
> 
> * * *
> 
>  **Tags for this chapter:** forest sex, sex magic, blow jobs, anal sex, jokes about human sacrifice, voyeurism by a wild animal,

Peter had been staring out the back window when Wade went to take a shower, and he was still standing there twenty minutes later when Wade came back out, t-shirt still a little damp and sticking to his chest, rubbing lotion into his skin in an effort to dull the ache. 

“Everything okay?” Wade asked. “We’re not getting attacked by the Alpha Force again, are we? We didn’t even do anything. It’s not illegal to fuck in a hot springs. I checked.”

“There’s no chance it’s not illegal to fuck outside period, babe. But no, we’re not under attack. At least... I don’t think so? There’s a reindeer outside,” Peter said, eyes still trained on the back window.

Wade wandered over and wrapped his arms around Peter from behind, resting his chin on Peter’s shoulder to look out the window with him. Sure enough, there was a caribou standing in the backyard, staring right back at them through the window. “I know they’re huge, but they’re not going to barrel through the front door Kool-Aid-Man-style. I’ll keep you safe, if you’re really worried about it.”

“I’m not scared, just… it’s strange? It hasn’t moved for at least half an hour. It’s just… staring back at me.” As if to defy Peter’s insistence that the animal didn’t move, it dropped its giant head forward in an imitation of a bow and pawed at the snow-covered ground a few times before looking back up at them again. After a minute, it did it again. 

“Is it…” Peter hesitated, putting a hand on the glass. “Is it trying to tell us something?”

“Like what? ‘Stop fucking in front of the stuffed bear; you’ll hurt its delicate sensibilities?’ We came up here to fuck in peace. I don’t know what he’s expecting from us.”

“I don’t know.” But Peter’s voice wasn’t grounded in reality. He slipped slowly from Wade’s grasp and went over to the front door, tracking the reindeer’s position through the windows as he passed. Wade watched him pull on snow boots, his scarf and coat, and finally the bright red Santa elf hat May had knitted for him. He tugged it on with an expectant look at Wade. “Are you coming? If this is some kind of evil villain trap, you’re coming with me. I didn’t bring my web-shooters on this vacation.”

Wade sighed to himself, but loafed over to pull on his own gear, strapping a katana to his back for good measure. “I can’t believe we’re about to have a showdown with a fucking Santa reject instead of the hot chocolate and peppermint facials I had ready to go,” he grumbled, but Peter was already out of the cabin and cautiously stepping through the knee-high snow in the direction of the caribou. Wade trotted after him, his longer legs and experience walking through snow making it easy to catch up. 

This was already a weird way to spend a Tuesday afternoon in the middle of December, but it got even weirder when the caribou turned around as soon as they got close and walked confidently back into the woods. He turned to check that Peter and Wade were following every dozen or so yards as he guided them through the thick brush north of Logan’s cabin. If Peter wasn’t growing more confident with every step, Wade would have worried that he was having a flash daydream he couldn’t snap out of.

“Where do you think it’s taking us?” Peter whispered, still loud in the muffled hush of the forest. 

“Starting to feel like the South Park kids off to get sacrificed to Satan by little woodland creatures, to be honest.”

“That’s why you brought the sword. If it’s evil, we have reindeer roast for Christmas.” The look of hunger was shocking on Peter’s cherubic face.

“Blood lust is a good look on you, baby.”

Peter flashed him a vicious smile, totally uncharacteristic but unfairly sexy. “I’ve always wanted to try deer.”

“We can just get you a deer, Pete. I have a shotgun. We don’t have to wander off after some demented secret forest god that wants to slit our throats.”

“Shut up, this is way more fun.” Peter glanced to the side. The pink rising in his cheeks wasn’t all from the cold. “The danger’s what makes it hot, right?”

“Baby boy, you are temp-ting me…” Wade sing-songed, all higher thought processes momentarily overtaken by visions of shoving Peter face-first into the nearest tree, yanking his pants down, and… Wade was brought back to reality as he collided into the back of Peter’s suddenly still form. Grabbing onto a tree branch to steady himself, he peered over Peter’s shoulder to see what had him stopped in his tracks. The caribou was standing in the middle of a clearing, bright with pure, untouched snow sparkling in the mid-afternoon sun. In the dead center of the clearing was a giant tree stump, a good seven feet in diameter. Wade could stretch out over the surface of it with room to spare. 

“I’d like to note that I was being sarcastic when I said it felt like we were going to be sacrificed by little woodland creatures like in South Park.”

The caribou nudged its nose against the stump as if encouraging them to sit. Neither of them moved. 

“If we don’t move, do you think it’ll forget we’re here? I read in a guidebook that they can run 50 miles per hour, and I don’t think either of us is that fast on foot.”

“That’s moose. Caribou are slower; I think we could take it.”

As if understanding them, the caribou sucked on its lips disapprovingly and nudged its nose against the stump again. Wade’s eyes followed the motion, and he noticed an odd pattern in the wood grain. The concentric rings that tell the age of a tree were marred by some kind of carving. Wade unsheathed his katana and stepped around Peter, his free hand out in a warning sign for Peter to stay back. The caribou stepped back as he approached, huffing hot breath in Wade’s direction. The stump was inlaid with odd sigils and astrology symbols, of all things. It looked like something Strange would throw into the air when his tea got cold. 

“What the fuck..?” Wade muttered under his breath.

“What is it?” Peter asked. 

“Uh… so you know how I was joking about being sacrificed to Satan?”

“You’re kidding,” Peter muttered, accompanied by the crunching of snow under his boots as he approached. His arms were wrapped around his waist and he was trembling ever so slightly as he looked down at the stump. “What the fuck?” he said, loud enough to rustle a few birds from nearby trees. “That looks like…” Peter’s head whipped around to glare at the caribou watching them calmly from the edge of the clearing. “Did you lure us here to fucking sacrifice us?” He sounded so much like May and heavy Queens that it nearly made Wade laugh. 

The caribou huffed another hot breath and scuffed the snow with a hoof. 

“Helpful,” Peter grumbled, turning his back on the caribou with a grumpy frown and crouching down to examine the stump better. “I could be inside drinking hot cocoa with a face mask, getting my feet rubbed.”

“I don’t remember saying anything about foot rubs.”

Peter glanced incredulously at him. “I was willing to negotiate a blow job for it.”

The caribou honked softly at them. They both turned to look at it, and it was doing the bowing, scuffing the ground thing again. They met at each other’s eyes. Clearly the caribou was trying to tell them something, but what that was remained a mystery. Peter looked at the stump again, fingers tracing the markings in the wood. “This looks like something Alistair Crowley would have drawn.”

“So what, we need to jizz on a knife and stab the ground with it or something?” 

The caribou barked at them, scuffing his hoof again in a more frenzied movement. Wade stared at it. It stared back. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? No. No way. Nuh uh. We’re not jizzing on a knife for Satan. My ex-wife used to make me do that shit, and there’s a reason she’s my ex.” 

Peter bristled at the reminder of the ex, his shoulders tensing even though he didn’t look up. “We don’t even have a knife to jizz on,” he murmured. “For the record, I’m not on board with jizzing for Satan either.” The caribou huffed at them.

“I know, babe; that’s why I love you.” 

Peter stood, brushing the snow off his sweatpants. “You said you loved me because I can bend like a pretzel.” 

Wade pulled him in with an arm around his waist and pecked his temple. “That too. So, what do we think’s going on here?”

“Clearly the reindeer wants us to do something with the stump. Possibly sex-related?” He turned to the caribou, who huffed and scraped the ground again, almost nodding. 

“What, you want us to fuck on the stump or something?” Wade asked, incredulous.

That earned them a frenzied little dance, antlers flailing, a gangly version of a Great Dane anticipating a ball throw.

“Wait, for real? You want us to fuck on this satanic-looking stump?” Peter asked, clutching onto Wade’s arm a little tighter than was comfortable. “I can’t believe this shit. I came out in the snow. I could be relaxing with my feet up.”

“Reindeer roast is still an option.” 

The caribou didn’t like that. He shook his antlers threateningly at them. Wade lifted his katana half out of the sheath in warning. “I will gut you and mount those head sticks above the mantle for Logan to admire."

“Is this actually a satanic thing?” Peter asked, raising a hand to pause the motion of Wade’s sword.

The caribou shook his head. “Then what do you need us to fuck here for… Is it some kind of winter solstice thing?”

“That’s not for another week.”

“Shh,” Peter shushed him as the caribou scuffed the ground and appeared to nod. “So, it’s not evil?”

Head shake.

“Well. If it’s not evil, and we came all the way out here…” Peter turned to Wade with a raised brow. 

“Are you seriously telling me you believe this Santa Reject that this isn’t some evil shit right now?” 

“Are you going to tell me you don’t have lube in your coat pocket? Because I know you do. I made sure it was there yesterday, before the tree farm.” 

“Are you telling me. You want to fuck. On a demon tree stump. In the middle of the woods.” Wade spoke slowly, making sure to enunciate each syllable so that he wouldn’t be misunderstood. “Want me to, what? bend you over and offer you up like some delicious, horny, little sacrifice to the creatures of the woods?”

“Are you telling me there’s a time you don’t want to fuck?” Peter was already pushing down his sweatpants and kneeling onto the stump, mittens gripping onto the smooth edge on the far side. His pucker was still pink and winking open from Wade fingering him at breakfast. 

“Well, shit, baby, if you’re gonna go like that…” Wade was already pushing his own pants down with one hand while he fished out the lube with his other. Peter twisted around, taking hold of Wade’s half-hard cock with a mittened hand as soon as he got close enough, wasting no time sucking the tip into his mouth, then coaxing more in, massaging the underside with his tongue. Wade’s knees almost went with the shock of warmth suddenly surrounding him. “ _ Fuck _ , baby.” 

Peter pulled off with a choking noise, made a face like a hacking cat, and spit on the ground, sticking his tongue out a few times after. “Mitten fuzz,” he muttered with an adorable scrunched-up unhappy face, shaking his head once more before leaning forward again to take Wade back into his mouth, careful not to use his hands this time. Wade chuckled as he cupped the back of Peter’s knit Santa hat to better guide his mouth. “Little too eager, hmm? Oh how the tables have turned.”

Peter pulled off him again with an audible pop and made a face up at him. “What tables? You shoved me into a dryer while I was in the middle of folding laundry just so you could eat me out last month. Like you aren’t gagging for it, too.”

“Gagging for it,” Wade giggled. Peter nipped playfully at the tip of his foreskin, pulling an equally playful yelp from Wade, before sucking him back in again with a wet sound. Wade helped him along with one hand in his hair, thrusting gently as he began to thicken up. He closed his eyes against the hot, wet feel of Peter’s mouth, forgetting momentarily where they were and how bitterly cold it was getting outside. Peter moaned around him, seeming to be just as into the moment as Wade was. He glanced down to see Peter arching his back in a stretch impossible for anyone but him, and maybe Mr. Fantastic. 

Wade pushed thoughts of Peter’s not-family out of his head to concentrate instead on the sloppy blowjob he was receiving. Peter purposely gagged on his dick to get it wetter, then pulled off to spit on it and stroke him to full hardness with a now bare hand, eyes fixed on the red head as drool dripped down his chin. Wade couldn’t resist mopping some of it up with his finger and feeding it back in Peter’s mouth. Peter smirked up at him, fluttering eyes bambi wide as he sucked the finger into his mouth with a delicious slurping sound worthy of a pornstar. 

“If you’re trying to kill me as a sacrifice for this tree, you’re fucking succeeding,” Wade informed him, unable to look away from the salacious way he sucked on Wade’s fingers.

Peter let off with an audible pop, stroking Wade’s spit-sloppy cock as he looked up at him. “Does it count as a human sacrifice if you wake up and walk away a few minutes after?” 

“Previous experience says no.” 

“Better fuck me instead, then.” 

“Didn’t think pagan rituals would turn you into such a slut, but I am In. To. It.” To emphasise his last statement, Wade slapped him on the ass, grinning at the satisfying bounce and accompanying yelp. He rubbed away the redness with a softer touch, thumbing the lube open with his free hand and drizzling a generous amount over Peter’s clenched hole. Quick fingers had him open again and ready in short order, and then Wade squared up behind him, both of them sighing as he slid home in one smooth movement. 

“Mmm, never gonna get over how good that feels,” Peter said, stretching his back with a satisfied little smirk at Wade over his shoulder as he rocked back onto his cock.

“Right back atcha, gorgeous.” Wade leaned over him to kiss his lips. The quiet of the snow-covered clearing was soon broken by the sounds of skin slapping against skin and Peter’s soft moans. They kissed over his shoulder for a long while before pulling away, both of them focused on their fucking.

Wade was enjoying watching the way Peter’s hole seemed to cling to him every time he slid out and shoved back in when Peter said, “So… that reindeer is definitely watching us fuck.”

Wade bit at his shoulder blade through three layers of fabric, glancing sideways at the caribou as he thrust particularly hard. Sure enough the caribou was watching them with… were his eyes glowing? “That he is.”

“Are you as into it as I am?” Peter’s voice was a little strained, but Wade could hear the humor in it. 

“Kind of?”

They kissed again over Peter’s shoulder, giggling together. It didn’t take long after that for them to reach climax, first Peter crying out as he spilled hot over the carved wood of the stump, and then Wade. Peter jolted away as soon as Wade started shaking, moving out of the way and directing Wade’s cum to join his on the stump.

Wade came back to himself to find the sigils glowing where their cum touched it, appearing to pulse with unseen magic. Peter stood next to him, pulling his clothes back up and reaching for Wade’s hand. “Shit, I didn’t think there would actually be magic,” he said, squeezing Wade’s hand until the bones creaked.

Wade could feel his own mild panic bubbling up. What the fuck had they just done? “What’d you think was going to happen?”

“I don’t know! I wasn’t thinking. I just got really horny.” Peter blushed and looked away, clearly embarrassed.

The whole design was glowing and pulsating now as they watched in horror, tendrils of light sliding down the grooves of bark and below the snowline. “We should probably go,” Wade said.

“It’s probably fine, but yeah. Let’s go.” Peter sounded a lot calmer than Wade felt, although he was still squeezing his hand like a vice. Yanking his pants up and tucking himself away, Wade made a beeline for the trees, pulling his boyfriend after him by the hand. He broke into a run as soon as they crossed the tree line, Peter right behind him.

They reached the cabin in a blur and tumbled through the door in a mess of limbs, shedding layers like their winter wear was coated in acid. Wade went for his phone to call Logan. Peter joined him in the kitchen, a look of visible concern on his face as he watched Wade search through his contacts before pushing the call button.

Logan picked up on the fifth ring. “ _ What is it, Wilson? I’m busy _ .”

“What the fuck’s with the weird ritual tree in the forest? We had a caribou try to Rosemary’s Baby us. Is Webs gonna get pregnant with demon spawn now?”

“Stop telling Logan about our sex life, for fuck’s sake,” Peter yelled, wrestling the phone out of Wade’s hand with not an inconsiderable amount of strength and putting him on speaker. “Logan, what Wade’s trying to say is that we were lured into the woods by a reindeer and asked to have sex on a stump with a bunch of sigils on it. Is that something you’ve… experienced before?”

“ _ Yeah, why do you think I let you two have a sex marathon at my cabin? Figured Deadbrains was dumb enough to do the forest ritual for me so I don’t have to freeze my balls off again this year. _ ” Logan said it as if it made perfect sense. Peter frowned at Wade, just as confused as his boyfriend looked.

“You wanted us to have sex on the demon stump?” he asked, crowding in closer to Wade, feeling a little violated but not exactly sure why.

“ _ Not a demon stump. It’s fertility magic. Keeps the ecosystem running and protects the area from poachers and loggers and shit. You didn’t have to do it, but I figured you two fuck so much you probably would. _ ”

“Thanks for the warning, at least. Wade almost shish kabobed the reindeer.”

“You didn’t answer me about Pete getting knocked up with the antichrist,” Wade said.

“ _ Just air the place out when you’re done _ ,” Logan said. And then the line went dead. Wade and Peter both looked at each other, and then down at Peter’s stomach.

“Well, shit.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I now established that Wolverine goes out to his cabin to rub one out on a tree stump every year and has for the last 100+ years? Yes. Am I sorry? No.
> 
> * * *
> 
> I do not consent to my stories being listed on Goodreads or other book platforms.
> 
> If you want writing updates from me, you can follow me on Twitter [@RonsPigwidgeon](https://twitter.com/RonsPigwidgeon), [Tumblr](https://mscaptainwinchester.tumblr.com/), [NewTumbl](https://mscaptainwinchester.newtumbl.com/), or [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/MsCaptainWinchester).
> 
> And if you'd like to come yell about my main ship, Spideypool, with me, join the 18+ Discord server I co-mod, [Isn't It Bromantic](https://discord.gg/w6UyAn7)!


	4. Snow Sculptures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Wade make snow sculptures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: snowpeople, love confession
> 
> I've decided not to answer the question of whether or not Peter is pregnant with a Satan baby. Call it a choose-your-own-Satan-adventure. For Christmas. You're welcome.

Peter woke up curled against Wade’s side and sat up to look down at his boyfriend to find him drooling onto his pillow. He was star-fished out except for the arms curled around Peter’s hip, mouth wide open and snoring softly. Peter chuckled to himself and kissed Wade’s cheek before crawling out from under his arm. Wade smacked his lips a few times and flopped over without waking up.

Peter shivered as soon as he was out of Wade’s arms. The cabin had gotten considerably colder than it had been the night before. He found a pair of fleece pajamas pants, t-shirt, and one of Wade’s thickest sweaters and padded into the kitchen in two pairs of socks. He froze when he glanced out the window. The snow was piled halfway up the glass. Peter had never seen so much snow in his life. He immediately found his phone and snapped a picture to send May and all of his friends.

“Can we make snow people?” he asked in way of a good-morning when Wade stumbled into the kitchen half an hour later, still naked and blinking at the bright light reflecting off the snow outside.

“Can I put my clothes on first?” Wade asked, still groggy.

Peter handed him a mug of coffee and pecked his lips to make up for blindsiding him. “You can even have breakfast first. No idea how you’re walking around without 300 layers on, though. I feel like a walking icicle.”

Wade shrugged, taking a big gulp of coffee. Peter sat him down on a stool at the island and set a plate piled high with eggs and wheat cakes and enough bacon to match the weight of a small toddler. Wade took one look at the wheat cakes and glowered at Peter. “Heathen.”

Peter rolled his eyes as he dropped his own plate next to Wade’s and brought his coffee over to sit and eat. “You don’t know what you’re missing,” he said around a mouthful.

Wade was busy pouring an entire bottle of maple syrup on his plate. “American-style bacon, too. It’s like you don’t even know we’re in Canada.”

“You like American bacon.”

“Sometimes a guy wants a meaty bite of loin first thing in the morning.”

“Maybe I should have stayed in bed, then.” Peter winked at him over his fork, grinning at the choking cough it earned him.

“I’m not awake enough for aggressive flirting. I’m only a mere mortal.”

Peter shot him a sideways look. “Pretty sure the three dozen times I’ve had to watch you die means you’re not, but okay.”

“Really bringing down the room at—” Wade paused to look at the clock on the microwave, “11:32am.”

“Eat your breakfast. We’re making so many snowmen today. I’ve never seen that much snow in my life.” Peter kept eating, but he could feel Wade’s gaze on him like a weighted blanket. He glanced over to find Wade grinning stupidily.

“You’re such a nerd.”

Peter elbowed him with an eye roll. “Eat your breakfast.”

“But you’re trying to give me a balanced meal. It’s like an affront to every bad habit I’ve ever had.”

“Imbalanced meals are definitely your worst habit.”

Wade made a belligerent noise around a mouthful of eggs. Peter just shook his head and kept eating.

-

“Have you ever made a snowperson before?” Wade asked, standing in snow up to his thighs in the bare necessities of snow gear. Peter was wearing three layers of everything and still shivering.

“We get snow in New York, just not this much, and someone’s usually pissed in it before I get around to making anything out of it.”

“That is a sad indictment on the state of your city, baby boy.”

Peter couldn’t refute it even if he loved his city with all his heart. Instead of replying, he started packing snow together to start a base. He might not have ever made a snowperson before, but he’d watched a few youtube videos while he made breakfast. Behind him, he heard Wade grumble about his technique, but he was working on his own when Peter glanced up.

Around the time Peter had a solid base for his snowman and was beginning to ball up the second layer, Wade started singing the Hamilton soundtrack. Peter got so lost in singing along that he didn’t catch what Wade was sculpting out of snow until they were halfway through ‘I Know Him’. He straightened, turning his back on his own snow sculpture to stare at Wade’s… creation.

“I can’t put that on Instagram.”

“It’s the most beautiful thing on Earth, baby. It’s my temple. They can’t take it down without violating my expression of religion,” Wade argued, waving his hands at it like Will Smith showing his wife off on the red carpet.

Peter put his hands on his hips. “Your religion is not an asshole.”

“Au Contraire, your asshole is my temple. I worship every day, all day.” He winked, standing next to the perfectly round sculpture of two ass cheeks with a painfully detailed pucker and the back mounds of a scrotum at their base. He looked unfairly proud.

Peter rolled his eyes. “This is too much even for you. We were supposed to be making good wholesome snowpeople.”

“I made a good hole-some asshole. And now I’m gonna make a good hole-filling dick to match.”

“Eight million people in New York, and I had to fall in love with the stupidest one,” Peter muttered to himself, going back to working on his own sculpture. A snowball hit him in the back of the head twenty seconds later, and he whipped around again to glare. “What was that for?”

“Lying.” Wade looked genuinely indignant.

Peter frowned. “About what? You being stupid for making a sculpture of my ass out of snow? Because that’s pretty weird, babe, and I say that two days after we fucked on an altar in the middle of the forest and might have gotten me pregnant with a devil baby.”

“You used the L word! No L-words without meaning them. My heart’s already fragile. I can’t take the break.”

Peter held his hands up in disbelief. “Did your brain get frostbite? Of course I love you. I let you drag me all the way up to Canada for Christmas. There are  _ moose _ here.”

Wade strode over the thick snow like it wasn’t the equivalent of walking through quicksand, right up into Peter’s face. “You asked to come. And you’ve never said you love me before.”

Peter scoffed at the idea, then paused, thinking. Had he really never said it? But they talked about being in love with each other all the time… Except it usually went the other way, didn’t it? Wade said he loved him all the time, but Peter… Peter usually quipped back at him or laughed or kissed him. Had he really never said he loved Wade?

He looked up into Wade’s eyes and cupped his face in his hands, all business. “Wade Winston Wilson, I love you. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since the day you brought flowers to May’s hospital room and sat with her for three hours while I defended my thesis. I’ll be in love with you until the day I die, and after. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you until now, but I do.” He emphasized the point with a kiss to the lips.

Wade made a pained sound against his mouth and pushed them both backwards into a snowbank, kissing him until his lips were numb. Peter let him, grinning.

The penis didn’t get made that day, but dicks did go into holes, so really, it was an all-around win.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want writing updates from me, you can follow me on Twitter [@RonsPigwidgeon](https://twitter.com/RonsPigwidgeon), [Tumblr](https://mscaptainwinchester.tumblr.com/), [NewTumbl](https://mscaptainwinchester.newtumbl.com/), or [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/MsCaptainWinchester).
> 
> And if you'd like to come yell about Spideypool with me, join the 18+ Discord server I co-mod, [Isn't It Bromantic](https://discord.gg/w6UyAn7)!


End file.
